


Never Seen Or Heard From Again

by showmethebeefy



Series: Conspiracy Hours [1]
Category: Cracked: After Hours
Genre: Conspiracy Theory, M/M, i figured it was time to write a fic about them, you know there's all sorts of conspiracies about cracked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 03:22:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3794788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/showmethebeefy/pseuds/showmethebeefy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soren Bowie has only been at the job for about a year, and he's already tired of the undercover work and the emotional attachments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Seen Or Heard From Again

**Author's Note:**

> To be read as if it comes right before that episode about Saved by the Bell and creepy sitcom tropes.

Leaving the diner is always hard.

Soren lays a hand on Dan’s shoulder, says a lingering goodbye, waves at Michael and Katie, who appear to be bickering over something small, pops his headphones in casually, and absconds into the drizzling summer night. He casts one glance backwards at the lights inside, smiles as well as he can, and disappears around the corner.

The rain, picking up now, is a chill down his spine that cuts to the bone, and he only has a moment to shrug on his raincoat and scramble out of sight and hearing of the others, now exiting the diner, before his comm-link beeps online, and he’s confronted with the scruffy holographic ID visage of Field Agent Johnston, projected across his eye for his viewing inconvenience. Soren certainly doesn’t want to see the face of Agent Johnston, scowling at him through every question.

“Did you accomplish the mission goal yet, Operative Bowie?” Johnston asks, and Soren lets out a deep sigh, pressing his back to the bricks. Johnston, predictably, scowls, twisting his stubble into a harsher, more gargoyle-like visage. “Okay, I’m going to take that as a no.”

“Look, Agent Johnston…” Soren searches for the right words to convey his current state of emotional turmoil. Johnston isn’t going to just understand right off the bat Soren’s conflict.

“Is something the matter, Operative?” Johnston arches an eyebrow, conveying his ultimate disdain for Soren in more than just tone. It radiates from every crevice in his face. Soren is exactly what Johnston’s people are conditioned to hate, but Soren himself is a necessary evil, an inside man. Johnston can’t stand that.

“I’m not sure I can…continue the mission, Agent Johnston.” Soren clenches and unclenches his fists, unwilling to admit his difficulties to Johnston, showing a weak point to someone who could one day potentially be an enemy.

“What? Why?” Johnston demands. “Has one of them figured you out already? It has only been a year, Bowie, are you really that incompetent?” He doesn’t sound surprised.

“No, no sir. I would just prefer not to continue.” Soren sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking down. “Is there any way that my skills could be allocated elsewhere, and maybe you could take my place?” Johnston laughs, cold and low. The sound scrapes down Soren’s ear canals.

“I’ll take it up with the heads.” Johnston looks right into Soren’s eyes, unsettling because Johnston shouldn’t be able to line it up that perfectly with a hologram. “I’m not sure how they’ll take their best field operative wanting to leave his post, but I’ll see what I can do for you, Bowie.”

Soren is taken aback. “Wow, that’s… surprisingly nice of you, Agent Johnston.”

“Don’t think it means I like you, or anything, Operative,” Johnston interjects, before Soren has the chance to say anything more complimentary. “I still can’t stand you. But… we need you, wherever we can use you.” He pauses, glancing away, like he’s forgotten Soren can see a hologram of his face. “Also, you just… remind me of someone that I knew once.” A laugh bubbles out of Soren’s throat, and Johnston’s vision snaps back direct to Soren. Soren sobers up immediately.

“Like the Gotye song,” he explains, and Johnston’s face softens, almost imperceptibly.

“Alright, Operative,” he says, and Soren detects a hint of a laugh under his gruff tones. “I’ll see what I can do for you.”

“Thank you, Agent Johnston,” Soren says, trying his best to be sincere.

“Take care, Operative Bowie,” Johnston replies, and as abruptly as he’d signed on, he signs off, and Soren is left feeling empty. Relieved, but empty. Tomorrow, Johnston hopefully will have a plan formulated to get Soren out of this situation, and he won’t have to lie to these people anymore. He won’t have to lie to Dan anymore. Of course, he won’t get to see them anymore either, not up front, but if someone replaces him in the close up duties, then he could be a server, like Johnston had been doing, or something else small like that. Of course, they would have to finally wipe him clean from their memories, but Soren… Soren would remember it all for them. That’s that he decides, right there, in the crisp, drizzling summer rain. He’ll be gone, but they won’t be forgotten. The decision is a weight off his chest.

* * *

The plan fails. It fails because Soren sabotages it, by talking about and purposefully encouraging a discussion about ‘never seen or heard from again,’ the trope that appears so often in Saved by the Bell, and then pointing out Johnston. Soren knows he is going to get chewed out, of course, when he gets back to HQ, but it’s worth it, for the swelling in his chest when he sits at the table with these people he already loves too much, and the looks that Dan gives him that neither of them quite understand just yet, and the sparky tension he has with Katie, and… whatever Michael contributes. Dicks? Dicks. Mostly dicks. He needs these internet comedy dicks, because he is one of these internet comedy dicks, and that’s not going to change any time soon.


End file.
